


Sasha hates Christmas

by NightsLikeThis



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Depression, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:53:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21940015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightsLikeThis/pseuds/NightsLikeThis
Summary: Sasha has always hated ChristmasBayley wants to change that---Christmas throughout the years
Relationships: Sasha Banks/Bayley | Davina Rose
Comments: 39
Kudos: 47





	1. That first Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ahunter8056](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahunter8056/gifts).



> This fic is for ahunter8056 for a lot of reasons. I wanted to give him a Christmas gift because I feel like he's done so much for me over the course of the last few months. Encouraged me to keep writing, to think about the details and put myself further into the story. Can I Break Down Your Walls? would not have been what it was without his continuous support and nerve to make me question how events should occur. He's made me a better writing, given me the opportunity to speak to/befriend other writers in the fandom, been someone I can rant to, someone who understands my depression, and never makes me feel less than for it. 
> 
> So Huntah I wanted to thank you for all of that, because sometimes I think you don't realize how great of a friend you are, how great of a writer you are (Check out his stuff if yall are still reading this sappy shit) and i just wanted to remind you!

2013

That first Christmas with NXT had been strange. She was so far away from home. Her brother. Her mother.

It seemed like Christmas would turn out to be just as disappointing as it always had been. Sasha couldn’t blame Santa or her mother for the lack of gifts she got as a kid, and even now, when she understood that it wasn’t because she had been naughty or because she was so unimportant that Santa could forget about her, she understood and appreciated that her mom tried her best all year around, just to scrape together enough money at the end of the year to buy her a Barbie and still make rent. But it still stung.

When she was trying to make a name for herself. Sometimes it stung even worse that following her dreams meant leaving the people that she loved.

It reminded her why she had to run far away from the darkness of her past, to never give up, why she could never take a day off, because she could never be that person again.

And sure it had gotten easier.

Becky had been kind enough to invite her to her Christmas party (even if Sasha decided to decline), and Charlotte had tried to cheer her up, keep her focused on wrestling for the last month of everything being coated in red and green. 

But there was still something so off putting about Christmas in Florida with friends who she trusted, but didn’t see as anything close to family. 

But Bayley made it better.

It had been a long day of moping. But Sasha pushes herself out of bed, hoping to not be completely unproductive on Christmas Day. She decides to go down to the training center because the doors are usually open, and blowing off some steam couldn’t hurt. 

Alone time is what she wants. To run on a treadmill until her thoughts of loneliness and despair are replaced with adrenaline and sweat. But a brunette ponytail sticks out from behind a locker door, and she knows that won’t be the case.

The ponytail isn’t placed in its usual position for shows. Instead of angled for maximum innocence, it’s pulled back normally: something more mature and serious in the way it shows Bayley means business. But there’s still that everlasting smile on her face when she sees Sasha, the glow in her brown eyes that never seems to fade, especially during the season of giving. 

“Merry Christmas” Bayley says chipper as ever as if she’s content to work out on Christmas over being with loved ones. 

Sasha stops the groan from leaving her throat, knowing Bayley’s good intentions by now. Nodding back in acknowledgement, a forced smile.

“You didn’t wanna go to Becky’s party?” Sasha questions because while it’s unlikely that either of them take a day off, it seems even less likely for Bayley to pass up hanging out with friends.

“That’s not really my thing” Bayley shrugs avoiding eye contact. 

They’ve known each other long enough that Sasha knows that this means Bayley is lying, Bayley loves parties, loves socializing and letting loose, but they’re not close enough for Sasha to call her out on it. So she nods again, takes Bayley’s words and tries not to read too much into them.

Bayley asks to spar and Sasha doesn’t have a good reason to turn it down; can’t bring herself to explain to Bayley that she came here to be alone, to get her mind off the fact that everyone else is so happy when she’s not. 

They take turns calling move sequences, careful not to push too hard, but not pulling punches either. It continues for a while, Sasha always getting mesmerized in the way they sync up so easy, the way Bayley reads her mind when she wants to try something again, or fix a mistake. It’s a careful aura that settles into something memorized, where Sasha knows Bayley needs a second to breathe, and Bayley knows when Sasha is sagging in momentum.

She didn’t get her wish of being alone, but it settles on her as their sitting a few feet away in the ring, catching their breath, that it still got her mind off things even for just a moment. 

Looking at the brunette has always sort of triggered something in Sasha. She’s always blamed it on the way they click so easily, but it’s hard to pass it off in times like this, when Bayley is restless and breathing audibly, her hair coming loose, sweat making itself known. There’s something else. Sasha can never put her finger on it. 

“I got you something” Bayley says reaching into her pocket. 

It’s startling, the fact that Bayley even thought to get her a gift, that she casually held it in her pocket as if she knew she’d see her today. 

“Um, I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry” Sasha voices looking down at her hands. 

“Christmas is about giving” Bayley reminds like a parent teaching her child.

Bayley sits forward pushing the small box the few feet across the ring and into Sasha’s reach. She takes the small box into her hands contemplating the possibilities, but she finds herself not wanting to accept, wanting to tell Bayley all the reasons Christmas sucks, all the reasons she doesn’t deserve this, but it weighs too heavy on her heart. In the end it’s easier to just open the box.

It’s a small flat oval keychain with words engraved.

_ “Wrestling is therapy”  _

_ -Eddie Guerrero  _

Sasha stares at it, brushing a thumb over the engraving, trying to understand how Bayley could know exactly what she needed. But there isn't a verbal reaction, something that worries Bayley into explaining.

“I figured you could use it as a reminder on the hard days” 

The rest goes unsaid, that  _ today  _ is a hard day, or that Bayley can tell, that this is too much for them to talk about at this stage.

There’s silence again to fill all the gaps.

“Thank you” Sasha finally speaks again, something wistful and full about her voice as she finally peels her eyes off the piece of metal to find the softness of Bayley’s eyes. 

Bayley nods this time, not knowing how to take the earnest gratitude that she’s never seen on Sasha’s face. 

What she doesn’t know is that later when she gets back to her apartment, Sasha puts the keychain on a necklace, wears it under her shirt everyday they train. Holds it close to her heart to keep her going through the darkness.

The words shine back at her through her bathroom mirror, delicately contrasting silver. It’s position over her heart makes her smile. 

Sasha still hates Christmas. 


	2. i never know why

2014

It had taken a lot of convincing, but Sasha had said “yes” to Becky’s invitation this year. She’d explained several times that it would be a chill environment, no expectations of gifts or cheer, just hanging out with the people who couldn’t or didn’t want to go home for Christmas. Plus there was free food. 

Bayley had been a good support system even if she didn’t understand Sasha’s anxiety around the holiday. She just reminded Sasha that there wasn’t anything to worry about, helped her pick out an ugly sweater, held her hand as they’d made their way up to Becky’s apartment.

The party was in full swing when they got there. It wasn’t a chill hangout, but it wasn’t complete chaos either. Kevin and Sami playing flip cup loudly in one corner. Corbin and Neville chatting on the couch. Becky hosting seamlessly. Charlotte tending to the food. A mix of trainers and crew filling up the tiny space of Becky’s studio apartment. 

They were greeted by loud whoops and gleeful cries of “merry Christmas” that Sasha couldn’t repeat if she tried. The chorus of happiness only made her feel out of place, but the anchor of Bayley’s hand in hers keeps her walking straight, keeps her up until their face to face with Becky and she’s pulling them both into a hug. 

“Yay, you’re here. I was afraid you’d ditch again” Becky directs the words at Bayley referring to last year's Christmas party, and how Bayley said she couldn’t come after hearing that Sasha wasn’t coming. But Becky realizes her mistake when Bayley’s eyes widen at the information, that Sasha isn’t supposed to know. 

There’s quick recovery by the orange haired girl as they don’t comment on the confusion on Sasha’s and she thrusts a bowl of dip into Sasha’s hands abruptly.

“Could you bring this back to Charlie for me, boss?” Becky asks with a hopeful smile, trying to get a moment alone with Bayley without telling Sasha to straight up fuck off, or lead her to believe she was being excluded. 

Sasha does so dutifully, checking Bayley’s eyes to tell her she’s a needed lifeline, that their separation has to be short lived.

As soon as Sasha’s out of ear shot, Bayley punches Becky’s stomach playfully. A punishment in the way Becky had so casually revealed that Bayley hadn’t attested Becky’s party last year when she’d heard the shorter woman was spending Christmas alone. 

“Are you trying to blow up my spot?” Bayley whispers angrily. 

“Sorry” Becky grumbles, rubbing the space Bayley had hit. “But you’re gonna have to tell her at some point”

Bayley looks up then, catching Charlotte’s eyes as she talks to Sasha on the other side of the room. She sees the way Charlotte makes her more comfortable, the way she smiles back when Charlotte shows teeth. It reminds her that this crush is stupid, that Sasha doesn’t like her any more than she does Charlotte or Becky. 

“I’m taking this to the grave” Bayley sighs out as Becky follows her eye line. She claps a supportive hand over Bayley’s shoulder as they gaze at their two friends, rubbing her back to calm the worry in Bayley’s eyes. 

The night progresses pretty smoothly. Conversations that don’t ask too much from Sasha, eating dinner, drinking amongst friends. All with Bayley at her side. There’s little check-ins every now and then: Bayley squeezing Sasha’s thigh under the table, taking her hand when they get up to move the short distance from the table to the couch, Bayley texting her that they can leave anytime if Sasha wants. 

Charlotte slips a card into Sasha’s hand before she can deny it. Becky gives her fancy chocolates, Rusev hugs her too tight, the smell of alcohol clear on his breath. It only makes her feel worse that she can’t just enjoy the moment, that she still hasn’t cracked what’s so good about giving. 

She tugs on Bayley’s hand sometime later, when Becky starts setting out dessert and the rest of the group starts gathering around the table. But Sasha’s pull is not with the intention to snag some of Finn’s “world famous apple pie”, it’s toward Becky’s bedroom. 

Bayley knows the implications aren’t more than Sasha wanting to get away from the noise for a while, a place to ground herself, recharge her social battery. But her heart still picks up, at the notion that Sasha wants  _ her there _ . 

Sasha turns on the bedroom light as she pulls Bayley inside, finding a spot on the edge of Becky’s bed to sit before Bayley follows along.

Bayley squeezes Sasha’s hand in an effort to get her attention, but her eyes stay fixed to their fingertips. 

“You okay?” Bayley asks as her last ditch effort.

“I just- I’m so sad and I never-“ Sasha pushes out before her voice cracks, before she decides against going further. Tears fall quietly, as she finally looks up at Bayley. 

_ I never know why _

She wants to say, but she doesn’t want to scare Bayley away with all her darkness at once. Sasha swallows, sees the way Bayley is simply waiting. Patient to let Sasha explain if she wants to. 

“Christmas sucks. Everyone is always so happy. And I feel so fucked up that I can’t just make myself happy too. And it a vicious cycle of feeling stupid for not being able to fake it. I’m so tired of trying for everyone else” 

Bayley shakes at the cracked lilts of Sasha’s voice, the rawness of her truth. She doesn’t know what to do other than pull her close, let her cry into her, bask in the warmth.

“I’ll always be here, Sasha. No matter how sad you feel. I’m never gonna stop trying to make you smile” Bayley whispers because full volume is too much when the words parallel the ones woven into the husk of her heart. 

Sasha holds on, for fear that Bayley might disappear if she lets go. She holds on for the pieces that she knows Bayley does well in holding together, the times Bayley has made her laugh until serotonin flooded her brain, the way she had promised her that she’d never stop, never leave. 

It broke away some of that darkness.

But Bayley couldn’t make her love Christmas. 


	3. peppermint and white goop

2015

Christmas felt different this year. There was something opening up Sasha’s heart in the way that she was too busy to really contemplate not being happy. 

Winning match of the year with Bayley. Losing the championship to her best friend. The way the world was finally looking at them like the women’s division really meant something. It was hard to be miserable among all the things she’d accomplished, all the things she had to be grateful for. 

The way the four horsewomen that turned from training buddies and work allies to the closest friends she’s ever had. The way Charlotte always brings her an ice pack after a bad bump. The way Becky always tries to include her. The way Bayley keeps her word.

Bayley is still there in the moments that the world turns to gray and Sasha is too beaten down to shine her own light.

They made a promise of no gifts this year between the four of them. Besides Becky was flying into Ireland this year and Charlotte was spending the day with her dad. Sasha had thought about going home too, but the thought of being around that many people, people she hadn’t seen in years, just for them to make a spectacle of her job, for them to be so cheery, was the last thing she wanted. 

So she stayed in on Christmas Day, invited Bayley over because she knew that was the only company she could tolerate, and decided that there wasn’t much else she could hope for in the new year.

Bayley came of course, a tray of lasagna still hot in her hands as Sasha opened her door. Snacks in a plastic bag around her wrist. Sasha couldn’t help, but light up at the way Bayley looked so subdued: her hair down, under a green beanie, a light sweater for the winter Florida weather,pajama pants, and worn out yellow converse. The outfit screamed cozy, and just looking at her make Sasha want to sleep, but the light in Bayley’s eyes always kept awake, kept her wondering how the world could give her the greatest gift everyday of the year. 

They ate together peacefully, laughing about memories they’d shared: the time Sasha messed a spot up so bad Charlotte cried laughing mid move, the time Becky dropped her quinoa all over Sasha’s carpet, or when Bayley slid off the back of a treadmill. 

It was a soft time of reminiscing where Sasha was only focusing on good things. It took a while to realize, but the all encompassing sadness that came every Christmas felt lighter. She could still feel the dryness of her throat, the ache in her head. But it wasn’t any more harsh than usual. Perhaps her depression had found its level height, was no longer increasing as Christmas came. The way it got darker earlier, the slightly cooler breeze outside wasn’t a harsh factor in her sadness. Because now it felt manageable, now it felt okay.

But she didn’t dwell on it, trying not to remind herself that December 25th was a day that celebrated anything. Instead she pretended it was just another day. A day where Bayley was here and that’s all that mattered. 

“I know we said no gifts, but-“ Sasha starts sometime later when they’ve sat on the couch, watching random non-holiday shows. 

“Sasha” Bayley calls out like she’s reprimanding her, telling her “You shouldn’t have” but the smile on the brunette’s face shows different.

They don’t talk about the weight of it: that Sasha broke the pact they’d made with Becky and Charlotte, that this was the first Christmas gift Sasha had ever given, that perhaps the day was getting easier to get through and maybe that was because of Bayley.

Instead they move forward, pushing closer on the couch until Sasha lays her legs over Bayley’s lap as she hands her the small present. 

Bayley rips the paper happily knowing that whatever it is she’ll love it simply because of who it’s from. Sasha reflexively grabs at her necklace, rubbing the engraving anxiously, hoping Bayley knows how much the gift meant to her then, that she still wears it now, hopes Bayley feels the same way about her gift.

It’s a bracelet. A leather braided band, exactly Bayley’s style, a silver rectangle at its middle with the engraving

_ 8-22-15 _

The date flashes through Bayley’s mind in an instant: takeover Brooklyn, the curtain call, the way she’d never felt more loved as they wrapped their arms around her in the ring, the way Sasha wouldn’t let go of her when they got backstage, the way she’d wanted to kiss her while they were all sweaty and tired, but she didn’t: too afraid that she’d ruin the best day of her life. 

“Thank you!” Bayley chirps full of pride, trying to mask the way it chips at the ice block in her heart, doesn’t want either of them to cry this christmas.

It feels like growth in the way Sasha hugs her but no tears spill out, Bayley just puts on the bracelet and there isn’t a grand moment of contemplation. 

They watch Dr. Pimple Popper because TLC’s the only channel not playing Rudolph or The Nightmare Before Christmas or some shitty holiday episode of Frazier. 

_ How romantic,  _ Sasha thinks as a man’s face shoots out white goop. But she knows it’s not the time for pushing, when she’s trying not to think about staking claim to a girl she’s just given a “friendship” bracelet to, when she’s trying to savor the good and not the unknown. 

Still she snuggles closer, let’s Bayley pull a blanket over them, holds back a groan when Bayley opens her 4th candy cane, tries not to think of tasting peppermint on her lips. 

Christmas is okay when she’s with Bayley.

Christmas is okay when she’s not thinking about it. 


	4. mistletoe

2016

Every year feels like a new layer of cement for Sasha, a previously vacant space in her brain being filled with just an ounce of Christmas cheer. Because it gets harder to be mad at the world and all the joy people force when so many good things have happened this year.

Moving up to the main roster. Sharing a rivalry with Charlotte that couldn’t be replaced for anything. Winning the raw women’s championship. Three times. Bayley following them up, being travel buddies, always supporting each other, basking in each other’s success, being there in the wake of failures, missed opportunities. Always having each other’s backs regardless of how real the storylines start to feel, regardless of the brand. Facing Becky and Charlotte at Wrestlemania. Bringing Bayley in as her tag team partner to face Charlotte and Dana at Battleground. 

The Women’s evolution, the recognition, the respect.

It weighed heavy on Sasha’s heart in all the right ways, grounded her to earth while showing her the stars for what they are.

It’s enough to cloud her judgement, enough for Bayley to convince her to get out of the house for Christmas. 

It’s Charlotte’s this year. Well, more like  _ Ric’s  _ which in general wouldn’t be an opportunity Sasha, wrestling superfan, would ever pass up: to see the inside of Ric Flair’s house and not just pictures she’d looked up on her library computer in middle school.

The mansion was decorated far more than Sasha had ever seen any other location, resembling a mall in December more than an average house. There was tinsel strung over archways, mistletoe hung in a few doorways, lights stuck to walls (blinking incessantly), a red- green color scheme of ornaments and glitter, garland and bells all over, complete with a 9 foot tall tree large enough to see from anywhere in the house. 

There were too many guests: Charlotte’s immediate and extended family, friends, wrestling personnel, Becky, Bayley, and Sasha, and an assortment of other random outcasts with nowhere else to go on Christmas that the Flair’s were kind enough to invite into their homes.

And it wasn’t the worst time of her life, food that Sasha actually liked, a lack of forced conversation, a corner that she occupies with Bayley and Becky for most of the night, drinking white wine (except for Bayley, their designated driver) and talking about life.

It continues that way as the Nature Boy makes a toast before dessert is served, as he thanks his daughter, remembers his son, as Sasha finishes off her fifth glass of wine, tries not to think too much about the implications, that this day is still too much to handle among people that aren’t Bayley, that there’s still something clawing at her heart no matter how far removed she is from the darkness, no matter how over it she thought she was.

“I need to pee” Sasha whines tugging on Bayley’s arm in her tipsy state.

“Don’t break the seal, lass” Becky tries to remind Sasha, referring to the seemingly constant need to urinate when drunk after the first release, while downing the rest of her beer herself.

“Nooo, I have to go” Sasha whines again, pulling on Bayley again as if she had been the one to protest Sasha’s request.

“Okay, c‘mon” Bayley only smiles at her, too in love to think Sasha was ever not cute, even like this. She stands up pulling Sasha up by the arm, supporting her weight where she needed.

Sasha wasn’t fully gone, just tipsy enough to need a helping hand, to see the red tinge of her cheeks, to slide in her fuzzy socks on the hardwood floor. 

They squeeze through the small crowd without any major issues, before Bayley makes sure Sasha is standing up right in the bathroom. She takes one final look, making sure the pink haired woman is steady enough, and then closes the bathroom and hopes Sasha’s aware enough to use the bathroom without aid.

She hears the toilet flush a minute later, and then the sink turn on, before Sasha is opening the door again, greeting Bayley with a huge smile, as if she’d given her the whole world in getting her to the bathroom safely.

“Why don’t we get you some water?” Bayley asks, holding out her hand for Sasha to take in order to follow her to the kitchen. 

They get there easily now that most of the guests have migrated to other places in the mansion, and peeing had seemed to sober Sasha up a little even for just a moment. Bayley spots a case of water bottles in the doorway leading back out of the kitchen, holds Sasha steadily as she bends to grab a bottle. 

In her own movement, Bayley picks up the sound of someone else not so far away, her eyes tracking toward the sound to find Becky in the kitchen, opening the fridge to get another beer.

“Mistletoe” Becky says, nodding up toward the top of the doorway Bayley and Sasha are standing under as she pops the top off her beer with a bottle opener.

Bayley looks up if only to confirm her dim fate, only to look down again to find Sasha batting her eyelashes up at her, placing her arms around Bayley’s waist in anticipation, patience in the way she waits for Bayley to scan her face.

“C’mon Bay, you have to kiss me! It’s tradition!” Sasha begs, shaking Bayley slightly to get the point across.

Bayley turns her head swiftly to find Becky’s eyes again, a silent question of “what the fuck do I do?” She finds the Irishwoman with her bottle pressed to her lips, offering a shrug as she swallows down another gulp, “She’s not wrong”

So Bayley swallows, chastising herself for letting two drunk people convince her to make a rash immature decision, and leans into Sasha’s cheek, hoping to get herself out of whatever scheme the two have seemingly cooked up. 

She pecks Sasha’s cheek, trying to pull away from the trainwreck waiting to happen, but Sasha holds onto the close proximity. Presses her warm lips onto Bayley’s harshly. It isn’t sweet, a dry taste on Sasha’s tongue from the wine, a push that’s more uncalculated strength than gentle passion. A pressured contact that only lasts long enough for Bayley to push her away.

Sasha’s thinking about trying for once, instead of waiting and wasting more time, the alcohol doing well in erasing perpetual inhibitions. Bayley can only think of how out of it Sasha must be to want to kiss her in the first place.

Sasha doesn’t question the abrupt change, or the lack of reciprocation, just snuggles into Bayley’s chest, pushes two thoughts into her heart: she’d kissed Bayley finally, but Bayley had pushed her away. A clash of accomplishment and failure.

Bayley looks up again to Becky, hoping there’s answers on what to do in a situation like this. There’s horror in Bayley’s eyes as Sasha only holds on tighter, but Becky seems unbothered by the events she’d just witnessed, no guilt for her hand in the matter.

“It’s not like she’ll remember anyway” Becky instigates, hoping to open room for air to fill Bayley’s lungs once more.

But Sasha remembers: the warmth of lips even for the brief seconds of contact, Bayley’s hands on her, the complicit action. It’s hard to forget.

She remembers in the morning, when she wakes up in her bed alone, somehow transported there without any knowledge of getting into Bayley’s car or taking her shoes off.

She remembers.

But Bayley pretends it never happened.

So, Sasha adds it to her list of reasons for hating Christmas.


	5. O'Reilly Auto Parts

2017

Last year was too much, a reminder of why Bayley had to reel things back, leave room for friendship in the crushing feelings of rejection: because Sasha  _ couldn’t  _ have really wanted to kiss her, must have been too drunk to know what she was asking, to know what it would do to Bayley.

And she’d had a few choice words for Becky too, when the woman was actually sober enough to comprehend that telling her best friends to kiss wasn’t the smartest thing to do when Bayley was still trying to keep her crush under raps.

But this year was different, Bayley agreeing to forgo going to any parties or going home in favor of doing what Sasha wanted: staying in without the repercussions of social interaction and alcohol. 

So Christmas found them in New York, in between tapings of Raw and scheduled live shows, in a high up hotel room not far from Barclay’s center. Sasha watched snow fall from the window, wishing that Bayley would get out of the shower soon, keep her mind from wandering to places that let her think of reasons that this was a waste of time, that everytime Bayley tried to make Christmas easier seemed to remind her of the gifts she’ll never receive, like the warmth of Bayley’s lips ever again.

It’s strange how one person could make her life so much better while simultaneously making her more distant, more desperate. And Sasha hates being reliant, hates giving Bayley that much say in her everyday mood. But it doesn’t change that Bayley makes her laugh more than anyone else, it doesn’t stop her from wondering what it would be like to laugh together for the rest of their lives.

Bayley emerges sometime later, breaking Sasha out of a spiralling descent into darkness, too caught up in the snowflakes to hear the bathroom door open. 

“You wanna go out there?” Bayley asks, clad in a comfy sweater and sweatpants, ready for a day in with her best friend, but knowing she’d go anywhere for the purple haired woman.

Sasha shakes her head, pulling her knees up to her chest, curling herself into a ball as she looks to Bayley for the first time, “Your hair is still wet,” she points out as if it’s the defining reason for staying inside, the risk of getting sick too much to lose.

Bayley sees the wonder in her eyes, vaguely questions if Sasha and Joshua ever played in the snow as kids, or if they were too plagued by all the moving, all the change, to stop for a moment, stay frozen in the fallen ice for long enough to forget just a little of the ice around their hearts. Bayley steps towards the balcony against Sasha’s wishes. Sasha watches her from the bed as she goes, taking in the way Bayley always seems to move so effortlessly, as if the world forced her forward with the time she gave up to always be by Sasha’s side. Bayley opens the sliding balcony door and steps one foot outside, a motion of testing how cold the concrete base would be against her bare feet, pushing her still cold body from her shower out into the open air.

“C’mon” she calls over her shoulder with a smile, prompting Sasha to roll her eyes, to feign a nature of being too good to stoop to Bayley’s immature level, before pushing off the bed to meet her at the door.

The cold wind greets Sasha’s skin like a puppy excited to meet a new friend, hitting her cheeks hard enough to make her close her eyes for the moment. She shivers, holding herself, hoping to bring some heat back to her limbs. 

“C’mere” she hears Bayley’s voice, but her eyes are still closed as she feels the duvet from their hotel bed wrapped over her shoulders, coming to cover the front of her body as well, as Bayley’s arms stay put circled around her shoulders holding her there.

“Better?” Bayley asks referring to Sasha’s state of warmth.

Sasha nods, always starved for words in moments like this, where Bayley is so close and unsuspecting. The times she feels she has to savor, where Bayley is soft and they are alone, and all feels right in the balance of chaos and order, enough for her fears to be erased, enough for Christmas to not be a total let down. So she’ll try her best to remember this, the cold droplets of water from Bayley’s hair soaking into her shoulder, her breath ghosting over Sasha’s ear, before Bayley inevitably finds someone to love the way Sasha wants, before she forgets the times they shared, before she gets disgusted by Sasha’s drunk desperation or pitied advances. 

Sasha leans forward against the railing taking Bayley with her. Bayley only presses closer, a place to settle both of their weights, as snow continues to fall around them, delicately coating the balcony floor, dusting over the top of Sasha’s hair, fogging up her glasses.

She shivers again, this time hard enough for Bayley to really feel it. 

“You wanna go back inside?” Bayley asks against the shell of her ear, pushing her nose against Sasha’s neck.

Even Bayley doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, they’ve always been touchy friends, something that comes with the territory of wrestling, but they’ve also never strayed from it outside the ring as well. Holding hands in gorilla before entrance music hits, long hugs after grueling matches, sharing beds in hotel rooms to save money, but this was a touch that wasn’t absolutely necessary or taking place after an emotional event. 

It just was.

The safety radiating from Bayley’s arms into Sasha’s heart.

Sasha doesn’t answer at first, too caught up in it. Contemplating how wrong it would be to kiss Bayley on Christmas, ruin her favorite time of year. Contemplating how right it would feel. 

So Bayley pulls back slightly, just enough to take in more of Sasha’s features, to see if she’d heard her question. But the change scares Sasha far more than it should, thinking Bayley took her lack of answer as “please get off of me” instead of “please never let go”.

“No,” Sasha calls softly, but urgent, removing one of her hands from inside the blanket to take Bayley’s hand, keep them tied together, “stay” 

And Bayley does, she holds tighter, squeezing Sasha’s fingers returning some much needed warmth.

They stay there for a while, watching snow fall over the morning skyline of New York City. Waiting for the right time that never comes, to tell of secrets they’ve held for years, from the one person they trust with everything else.

There’s time spent pulling apart, when Bayley can’t feel her toes and Sasha’s cheeks seem permanently red. They stay apart when they step inside, when Bayley has closed the door behind them.

Like they’ve said goodbye to another universe, where they could be together, where things could be simple, where Sasha could love Christmas, and they didn’t have to worry about the sentiments that came with kissing best friends or ruining careers.

Sasha watches Bayley pull on a cozy pair of socks, watches as she contemplates her next move: whether to join Sasha on the bed, cuddled up in the large pile of pillows, or if she should do something else, anything else: order room service, go down to the hotel gym, ask about what Sasha wants to do today.

But the actions don’t take any course, as Sasha stares back at her with the world in her eyes: a look that Bayley can’t read, something to be said about the way Sasha’s eyes soften when their alone, the way Sasha’s shoulders ease, her jaw settles.

“You’re so beautiful” Bayley is saying before she can shut herself up. Before she’s even really realized it.

But Sasha’s eyes are changing, like a strike to her icicle heart that melts away some damage, some layer of cold. It’s so small that Bayley almost misses it, almost recoils in her mistake, but there it is clear as day that Sasha isn’t alarmed by Bayley’s open admiration, she welcomes it. And it’s nothing new for Bayley to compliment her, leaving suggestive comments on Instagram pics, checking her make-up before an appearance, saying her outfit looks pretty, but there’s something new inked into the lines of Bayley’s face.

Vulnerability. The quiet lull of them being together, a place where nothing is expected of anyone. 

And the only thought clear enough for Bayley to vocalize is “you’re so beautiful” and Sasha doesn’t cover her face, or stick out her tongue, or declare Bayley’s insanity. She just takes it, wears the compliment like a crown. And Bayley can’t get over it.

It feels like an almost.

“Sorry” Bayley jolts when she realizes they’ve been quiet for what feels like several minutes after her declaration of clarity. She looks down at her hands, trying to remember herself. Shakes her head at the surprise of it. Chuckles at her own loss of stability.

“Don’t be” Sasha chirps just above a whisper. It sends Bayley spiraling into another loop of questions without answers, but Sasha has to stop it, can’t watch her brain race around the track another time without feeling sick to her stomach.

The eye contact doesn’t break as Sasha speaks again.

“Can we watch a movie?” Sasha asks like Bayley could ever decline such an innocent request from the person she loves.

She doesn’t question the way Bayley readily springs forward, suddenly forgotten is the space of wonder, the moment of almost. She finds a place close on the bed, remaining a healthy distance of a few inches away..

But Sasha pushes closer, always better at reaching out than speaking up. She lays her legs over Bayley’s once the taller woman has settled into the bed, covering the brunettes body with a fair share of the blanket. It’s enough touch to make the goosebumps that had just started going away from the cold come back, just enough to settle the worry all at once.

Sasha flips through channels slowly, waiting for Bayley to voice her opinion, but words don’t come, Bayley’s head settles against Sasha’s shoulder content to spend the day too close to breathe in anything other than Sasha Banks. 

“Your hair is still wet” Sasha voices, just to say, not because she wants Bayley to move off of her. 

“You still love me” Bayley counters quickly, rubbing her damp head back and forth across Sasha’s exposed shoulder. The droplets soak against the top of her tank top more than they already had, but she can’t complain, not when Bayley is teasing her and smiling like that, and speaking too much truth, because Sasha would love her any way she was allowed.

She passes through shows on popular channels: A Christmas Carol, Frosty the Snowman, a Christmas Bake-off show.

She hovers on The Nightmare Before Christmas for longer than usual just as Jack Skellington comes across Christmas Town; Bayley smiles at the way he’s so taken by bright colors and spectacle, how she wishes Sasha could find the same joy. 

So, its a pleasant surprise when Sasha leaves the movie on, turns to snuggle deeper than before regardless of wet hair or the butterflies that fly free in her stomach.

They get through most of the movie without another word, pleased to watch together as Christmas Town and Halloween Town are made whole again.

“Christmas movies wouldn’t be so bad without the cheesy declarations of love” Sasha feels the need to criticise as Jack and Sally sing about being meant for each other.

“It’s cute!” Bayley fights back, abruptly sitting up, offended by Sasha’s anti-romance comment.

“Yuck” Sasha remarks again, as the two characters embrace on screen, playing it up for the reaction from Bayley alone.

“You don’t want to be in love?” Bayley asks, “It would be like the cutest if you found your soulmate of Christmas!” she continues wistfully, ever the hopeless romantic.

_ I already am,  _ Sasha wants to say, but bites her tongue, trying her best to focus on the second idea Bayley had spoken of.

“Double the gross as far as I’m concerned” Sasha huffs, grabbing the remote to search through channels again as the end credits start to roll.

Other than the rare “I love you” every now and then, the two never really discussed their positions on love. And even then it was always spoken to highlight  _ friendship, _ shared the same way with Becky, and Charlotte. Bayley hadn’t had a boyfriend since NXT, a guy she’d sleep with when work wasn’t too hectic, and wouldn’t text back. Sasha remained single for as long as Bayley could remember: too concerned with achieving her dreams to waste time looking for potential suitors, and it wasn’t like there weren’t people knocking on her door constantly, but Sasha never seemed to dubany of them as good enough or worth her time, always more inclined to go see a movie with Becky, or get her nails done with Charlotte on the off chance that Bayley wasn’t available.

But they hadn’t discussed  _ love.  _ They’d talked about Sasha’s high school boyfriend and how he’d cheated, but that wasn’t love. They talked about crushes and infatuation, but that was far from it too. They hadn’t talked about wanting to get married or have kids, what it would be like to know love like it couldn’t be questioned, to wake up every morning feeling wanted. Bayley wasn‘t even sure Sasha wanted any of that. They hadn’t spoken about how Bayley needed someone who could always make her laugh, that Sasha needed someone who could make her feel secure. 

“C’mon dude” Bayley requests some attention paid to her, “You don’t wanna permanent cuddle buddy, who does nice things for you, and loves you unconditionally?”

“I already have you for all that” Sasha rolls her eyes not breaking her attention away from the TV. But the words make Bayley feel like she’s not breathing, too much trust in Sasha comparing her to someone she’d love  _ love. _

“Okayyyy.” Bayley starts, taking Sasha’s words, but wanting to get her own point across, undeterred by the voice in her head telling her to shut the hell up, “but you don’t wanna kiss me”

There’s a pause, Sasha doesn’t change the channel, the sound of an O’Reily Auto Parts commercial serves as background noise as they let Bayley’s assumption settle against the air.

“Who says?” Sasha whispers, hoping the right time has finally come, that this wasn’t some test she’d just failed, that she hadn’t just walked into a trap. 

“What?” Bayley asks because the whisper is too quiet for her to believe it wasn’t a figment of her imagination, because she wants to be right before she treads forward too quickly

“Who said I don’t want to kiss you?” Sasha expands, taking the adrenaline boost happily, before she can convince herself this is a bad idea.

“Sasha?” 

She finally looks up at Bayley, finding a mix of relief and surprise, a hint of residual worry: that this is all a dream, or she’s misread Sasha’s words.

“I-” Sasha starts just as Bayley cuts her off, “Sorry I shouldn’t-”

“No, it’s okay”

Silence. A plain of not knowing where to step, too afraid the weight will break through the ice, too fearful of the reality of drowning.

“So you do want to kiss me?” it feels stupid, too naive, like giving her first hand job to some kid at a party in middle school, in a closet on a dare. It feels like running through the front door with a full bladder, fumbling with her keys, almost peeing in her pants. It feels like waiting for a train home in the cold, only to realize as the train pulls to a stop that she’s on the wrong side of the tracks. 

“Yeah” Sasha voices so simply. And it feels dumb. Too cheesy for either of them, but the perfect end to aloof pining. It feels like waking up to the smell of pancakes, having a fully charged phone, getting the perfect camera angle. It feels like the first clear breath after a set of pull-ups. That first sip of water when she wakes up at 3 am parched. Like the ice is solid enough to step on and Bayley isn’t afraid anymore, “Is that okay?”

Bayley can’t pull any words together, can’t think of doing anything that isn’t fulfilling Sasha’s wishes. She moves forward until lips are touching, a play of new discovery coated in a pit of endless feeling. Because there isn’t any mistletoe, and Sasha isn’t drunk. 

Bayley holds steadfast, a passion in keeping close, in patience for Sasha’s brain to catch up with her mouth. And Sasha feels loved, understands the want in the hands that find her hips, the respect in the way Bayley pulls back just enough to check in, the need in the nails that scratch against her ribs.

And they’ll talk of all the times they’ve wanted to do this before, and how every time they’d refrained. And how love coursed through veins long before this moment. 

But for now Sasha’s content to stay pressed close enough to feel the shake of Bayley’s lips, the release of anxiety in her bones, the residual ache left on her skin.

Because Christmas isn’t too bad tucked into the woman she loves. 

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter coming VERY SOON writing as i type this
> 
> Comment and kudos PLEASE if you enjoyed, lmk what cha think
> 
> Eyesfadefromgreentogray on tumblr
> 
> Merry Christmas  
> Happy Hanukkah  
> Happy Kwanzaa


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